Diamonds in the Dark
by fanfic n00b
Summary: They felt a little like traitors, standing here together in the dark garden while Lucius' friends made their plans in the house on the hill. Canon-compliant. Set in the summer after fifth year.


"I see I'm not the only one who finds the Malfoys' society affairs rather tedious," he said.

She spun around. White-blonde hair, narrowed eyes, pointed features. Her ivory party dress was iridescent, backless, and her skin moonlit, almost bluish. She was so pale and composed that she might have been a ghost or a Veela, but she was a witch. A sixteen-year-old witch.

"Severus," she said, nodding and raising her flute of champagne at him.

"Narcissa," he replied.

"I don't," she said.

"Find them tedious?"

"No," she said.

He smirked at her and lit a cigarette with a swift, practiced hand. She gave him a tight-lipped look, as if she felt ruffled by his gaze. As if she detected desire in it. He didn't bother to correct this impression. Although he found her objectively pretty, she was not his type at all. (His type, of course, was middle-class, red-headed muggleborns with freckles and mismatched socks, but that was well out of reach now, thanks to his smart mouth last June.)

He looked away from her, out over the dark shrubs and still statues of the Malfoys' garden, and exhaled.

"Must you do that here?" she asked.

"I thought that's what these towering hedges in manor gardens were for. To provide the privacy in which to indulge one's vices."

"Can you keep it away from me, please?"

When he did not respond, she snapped her fingers at him, and he noticed the huge, glittering ring on the fourth finger of her left hand. She wasn't yet of age, but she was already spoken for, apparently.

"Congratulations," he drawled, nodding his head at the ring.

"What? Oh. Thank you."

"When?" he asked, leaning in to admire the thing in the way he supposed one ought to.

"Yesterday. Damn it, Severus, I asked you to keep that away from me."

"Afraid I'll taint you by association?"

"No."

"I'm sure Lucius can afford much more, ah, _interesting_ substances. More aesthetically pleasing. More suitable for you both."

"Yes, I'm sure he can," she said sharply.

He took this to mean that she had not yet taken advantage of her intended's considerable financial resources. He pondered that for a moment and grew silent, lost in thought.

She sighed agitatedly and looked heavenward, as if in prayer or repentance.

"Well, go on," she said, opening her palm expectantly. She might have been addressing a house elf.

He blinked at her.

"Didn't your mother teach you to share? You're driving me insane," she said.

His smirk deepened. He was pleased to see that her haughty affect had a few holes in it.

"I'm trying to quit," she said. Now she sounded whiny and guilty, like a schoolgirl. Which she was, technically.

"Better make this your last, then," he chided.

He pulled another cigarette from the pocket of his robes and handed it to her. She slipped it into her prim little mouth and leaned in toward him for a light, her long hair falling onto his shoulder. She pressed the tip of her cigarette against his, and the orange embers spread between them, like a burning kiss.

She drew back, took a long pull, and exhaled blue-white smoke in a delicate, poised way. More poised than Lily ever was, if he was being honest, because half the time Lily was laughing or running her mouth off.

"Are those your school robes, Severus?"

"So what if they are."

"I don't know if Lucius told you, but this is rather a formal dress occasion."

"I gathered that much myself, thanks."

"Well, at least they're black."

"Yes, at least there is that," he said sarcastically.

She drained her champagne and set the glass on top of a marble pedestal. He guessed it was her fourth or fifth champagne, judging by the lateness of the hour, but she did not seem discomposed at all. Ten points to Narcissa, for holding her liquor.

The dark manor garden was silent except for the babbling of a fountain and the muffled chamber music issuing from inside the lavish hall. The night was cloudless and warm, and the stars twinkled like Narcissa's diamond.

"You're looking more dour than usual. What's happened to you?" she asked.

"Nothing's happened to me."

She quirked a blonde eyebrow at him. "It's that girl. That Gryffindor girl you're always running round with."

"No."

"Really." Now it was her turn to smirk at him.

"I don't give a damn about her," he said.

"Hmm. Curious. I heard you threatened to sleep outside her dormitory at the end of term."

"Who told you that?" he asked defensively.

"I have an ear to the ground. And a lot of friends. You could do with some more friends, Severus. Especially if James Potter intends to continue his campaign of aerial aggression against you. Nice pants, by the way."

He scowled and started shredding the leaves off a nearby rosebush.

"I'm offering, Severus. Having a little fun at your expense, yes, but also offering."

He grunted. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You're not exactly socializing, though, are you?"

"Neither are you."

"On the contrary. I'm forging alliances."

He shot another scowl at her.

"I mean you, Severus. Strange though you undoubtedly are, you're also an asset. You're clever. And Lucius thinks very highly of you."

She offered her slim, pale hand to him, and again that smirk played across her mouth. He took her hand in his and shook it slowly.

"Nice to meet you, Narcissa Malfoy," he said, now smirking himself.

"There, see? New friends. It's not so difficult," she said.

Her nails were impractically long, and he could feel them, sharp against his palm. He mused, fleetingly, that this was the longest sustained physical contact he'd ever had with a woman.

After a moment, she stepped toward him and slid her other hand up the inside of his left arm. He held still, unmoved by her cool, clinical touch. She was searching, he realized, for evidence of the Mark. She probably expected him to either jump back in fright or show it off. But he did not have it yet. He shook his head at her.

"I thought not," she said.

"And you don't, either, I see," he said, because her bare arms made that plain.

"No," she said.

They regarded one another with curiosity as their cigarettes burnt down to nothing. A white peacock appeared on the hedge and called its strange, piercing shriek into the night.

They felt a little like traitors, standing here together in the dark garden while Lucius' friends made their plans in the house on the hill.

Traitors to the cause.

One day, they both would be.


End file.
